Set Sails to The West
by NuttyThenutjob
Summary: Mysterious beings have been doppelganging as elves and terrorize men. Now, accompanied by rangers who hate his kin, Táulandir embarks on a deadly adventure to seek the truth behind the attacks, one that might spill his own secrets. All the while hiding as a man. /Male-OC centric with Aragorn, Legolas, Rumil, and Orophin / Sets years after LOTR events. Non-romance. Teleri elf OC.
1. Prologue

A silver haired elf stood by the shore.

He had a solemn look on his face. His hands were holding on a fishing net tightly. His eyes narrowed on the tattered sails of his boat.

Some things just never changed.

He let a sigh escaped his lips as he climbed on the sail's post. He ripped apart the useless sails as he tied on a new one. One hand pulling the sails to that he can adjust it to a better position.

Absent-mindedly, he remembered a voice.

The voice of his son. Laughing.

Laughing as he fixed the sails. Laughing as he wove the broken nets. Laughing as he raced against his brother and sister. And laughing as he danced, along with the sound of his brother playing a violin.

The elf felt a bitter smile stretched on his lips. He casted his eyes at the horizon, watching the sea.

Someday, his son will return home.


	2. 1 : Táulandir of Mirkwood

The elf ran through the thickets of leaves, his feet landing lightly on the soft grass as he leaped from trees to trees. A bow in one hand.

Three warrior braids are woven through his dark, wood colored hair. Chestnut eyes keen and alert as he scanned through the area, watching for every move.

His name is Táulandir, and he is no more older than one-thousand-and-fifteen-years-old, still a child compared to most elves in his rank. For yet he's young, he is already in the militia.

Or perhaps, it was simply his home that forced him to act so. Along with many other elves. For they reside in Eryn Lasgalen,-or Mirkwood-, a once great forest now filled with darkness and evil.

Yet, since the Ring has been destroyed by the hobbit, Frodo Baggins, the darkness that once dwelled in his home are lifted. And slowly, he regains back his beloved forest.

But things changed.

The Sea is calling. Many set out sails into the West. Even the King.

He stays, like few others who had yet to be called. Now living enclosed and isolated, he, along with his kin, never left Mirkwood. Hiding behind the enchanted and thickly grown forest, from the whole of Arda.

He never knew when it started. When his kin decided it would be better off to hide. To become mere stories for children of men.

Why? The answer is simple. They had lessen beyond anyone's mind. The elves left are no more than fifty. And each day they will lose someone.

Perhaps hiding truly is the best thing to do.

For what Lady Galadriel said was true; 'The time has come for the Dominion of Men.'

Many times he considered of leaving. Leaving with his kin, to the sea and the Undying Lands.

But he can't.

More than once, in any occasions he can get, Táulandir would venture out to the shores. Watching the lapping water sparkling beneath the sun. The soft waves crashing against rocks, singing a lullaby to him, calling him.

It was different

The Sea calls out to him, but at the same time, forcing him to stay. Not letting him to go back. To come back to his true home.

He never told anyone, but Táulandir is a Teleri elf. A Falmari,-sea-, elf who came from Alqualondë, part of Aman itself. Sailing away from his home, from his family, to Middle Earth.

Some said he was foolish, but he couldn't help himself.

His mother is a Silvan from his new home, from Mirkwood. Setting sails centuries ago, meeting his father, whom is a Teleri. A sailor.

They are married then. Having three hín, the eldest being Táu himself.

Since he was but a hína, Táu loves to hear stories about the enchanting Arda. Middle-Earth. Of the great battles to the small beings called 'dwarves'. And when more Middle-Earth inhabitants came to his homeland, Táulandir was more than delighted.

Many other elves spite him for that. Although some are quite considerate, the same can't be said for his friend.

Well, his used-to-be-friend.

A freak they called him. For wanting to explore the dangerous yonder when he could stay in the haven. Leaving all his comfort and family.

Despite it, Táu could never forgot the land. And so when he reached the age of four-hundred-and-thirty-eight, he told his family that he wanted to leave.

And they let him.

He remembered the day he sailed. How his hands are trembling with excitement, as his haru clasped the deep blue cloak he gave him. His haruni packing a bag full of bread and cheese,-his favorite-, all the while scolding him to eat properly.

His ammë kissing his forehead, telling him to take care before giving him a hand drawn map of Middle-Earth,-which he still treasures 'till this day-. His atta making sure the small boat is at tip top shape, smilling and patting his back.

And his younger siblings, crying and hugging. Telling him to come back soon.

'I promise, someday, I shall return. Untill then, you must wait.'

His strong love for the faraway land is what brings him here, to this day.

A stranger he is, on a strange place. Following his mother's story and map, to her homeland. Eryn Lasgalen. Greenwood the Great, or in this case, Mirkwood.

Táu settled on the furthest place from the heart of the forest. Purposely avoiding the Elven-King and the Prince. Hiding in plain sight, studying the new world from the shadows.

It was a miracle, truly, that untill the age of six-hundred-and-twenty-seven, Táulandir succeded on his deception. Avoiding patrols never seemed to be easy at all.

It was also the age when he decided he had enough knowledge, and that it was time for him to come out into the light.

Joining the militia was probably the stupidest idea he can come up with. Although no surprises there, he alone had left everything behind for a strange land that he had only known in stories.

His gift of spinning tales is truly remarkable, for he managed to create a believable story to fill in the gap during his life, despite never being 'there' himself. It also helped that his hair is dark,-despite his looks taken after his atta, whom has silver hair-, much like most Silvan elves.

He was accepted then, somehow, in the militia. And not only that, he is also the youngest in his ranks. And the smallest.

'Runt of the Militia' is just one of the many nicknames the other elves had given to him. 'Tithen tór' is the most annoying one.

Táu huffed a strand of stray hair away from his face. His skin had just gotten darker from his latest escapades to the sea, in which of course, he'd done it very discreetly.

The sea smells and sounds like his home, and it never fails to brought peace settling inside his soul. Reminding that he could always leave if he wanted to. Or that he could always return home.

Seeing his family again. His ammë, atta..

The leaves nearby then rustled. And an old ancient voice entered his senses.

Táulandir sighed.

It was not yet his time. Both the trees and the sea are his home. Where he belonged. And if it was possible, he wanted both. Yet he knew it was a selfish wish.

For he, is a wood elf, who longed for the sea.

He could always blame his mother, she is a Silvan afterall. Yet Táu knew the blame was to put on him only. He is the one whom obsessed with Middle-Earth, if only he wasn't so naive back then.

Did he missed his family? Yes.

But did he regret his choice? No.

Never once he would regret it. The greatest decision he ever made in his life, both the best and the worst.

He hates his duty. He hates killing, and he hates some annoying people he met, from all races.

But yet, he also loves it. The filling of content and victorious when he fought his own battle and survives,-barely-. The many different races he met, even dwarves, for they have great taste at pastries such as cream puffs.

And lembas. Dear Valar, Táu loves the elven bread. He could ate in one go without needing proper manners, and although his ammë would be livid for it, Táu knows his atta would be amused.

Then distantly, Táu could hear footsteps.

They are heavy and wary, signing that they do not belong to his kin, but rangers. And that they had been on travel for a quite long time.

If it was hard to sneak out to the sea during the Third Age, tis even harder to do it now and then. For the men seemed to grow endlessly, and are spotted relatively easy everywhere. Including Mirkwood.

It was both terrifying, and fascinating. But also dangerous. Considering how elves preffered to be hidden now, safe from curious prying eyes. Because anything can be threats to the dwindling numbers of the elven kin.

These days, there are only atleast, sixty left in Mirkwood. Not counting the ones left in Lothlorien, yet Táu highly doubted their numbers will be as much as Mirkwood's. And the ones residing in Imladris,-Rivendell-, had all but sailed. Nothing left of Imladris but the scrolls and books, those that are now kept in Mirkwood's Great Library.

Whenever he got the time, Táulandir would stay at the library. Sorting the parchments and read them. Although it proved to be a difficult thing, since most are written in sindarin, a language Táu had yet to master. There are few written in quenyan, and those Táu took time preciously to read.

The Great Battles were mostly written in quenyan. His personal favorite is the Battle of Five Armies. The courage of a man named Bard the Bowman of Laketown, and those dwarves and their hobbit companion. Truly an amazing tale.

Táulandir then stops, along with his thoughts that came to a screeching halt. He was frozen for a moment before leaping over to the tall branches, climbing as fast and silent as he could.

Just as he reached third of the tree's height, men showed up.

There are five of them. Three have horses whilst the rest don't, probably lost them during their travel. Spiders though lessen, were more prone to attack men travelling, if their bloodstained clothes didn't quickly gave away. And they smell of filthy stench, so it really was either spider or some wargs.

Or perhaps, orcs.

Despite Sauron being defeated, there are still some of the foul beings left. Scavanging around like mad beasts, wandering.

Tis the the only reason why there are still elves patrolling around.

When the men left the grounds and when Táu could no longer heard them, the elf finally moved. He ran North. Footsteps light as he leapt from branches to branches. Each time whispering thank you to the trees.

He must warn the others of the newly found visitors.

\--TBC--

This is terrible ugh *mutters curses in telerin*

Hello peeps! And yeah, tis I. With another story. Truly sorry, you may slap me. I deserve it.. wholeheartedly.

So. I need a Beta Reader with knowledge. And also, len hannon for checking this out!

Translations (based on ) ;

Telerin :

-Ammë = Mother

-Atta = Father

Quenyan (it's said that telerin is sorta similiar to quenyan, so I thought that some of Teleri elves still uses quenyan) :

-hín = children

-hína = child

-haruni = grandmother

-haru = grandfather

Sindarin :

-Tithen tór = little brother (teasing)


	3. 2 : Friends from Lothlórien

Táu whistled. Soft and melodious like birds', but to his kin, it was a warning. A warning of men, approaching too close to their home, a code they made years after many elves started to depart for the Sea.

A whistle echoed back, and few moments later five elves appeared by his sides. All with simple bow and arrows slung over each of their shoulders and swords attached to their hips. Táu himself with two silver knives, purposely avoiding swords.

Despite being in the militia, Táu is rather clumsy. Once during his training, he nearly stabbed his own mentor for tripping. He was banned from swords since then, and Táu couldn't be happier to oblige.

"Where are they heading?" Bàin asked from his left, keeping his voice into a bare low whisper.

"I do not know. They seemed to be not knowing where to go, for one of them seemed rather disgruntled and the others are at.. lost." Táulandir said carefully, making sure he pronounced every words right, for his sindarin is still not good enough for an elf around his age.

Well, he had only started speaking sindarin around five-hundred-years-old to be fair. His mother tongue is telerin, of course, and also quenyan. And although he picked up few sindarin phrases from his ammë, he lacked vocabulary.

Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice his hesitation. If they did, they didn't say anything about it.

"Could they, possibly, are looking for us?" Sidha joined in, his fair hair flew behind his back for his mother carried the blood of Sindar.

"Nay. That can't be it. They don't even know we existed. Except King Aragorn, Queen Arwen, and the other men that are alive after the war against Sauron. But surely they left only little, for years passed too quickly for them."

"But Bàin, there are children too during the war."

"So? Most of them are probably old by now and thought we're just figments of their imaginations. That's what I've heard anyways."

"And where, I pray do tell, have you heard that?"

"When few rangers went hunting too close to the borders. They talked about us during the campfire for a while, dismissed as quickly as it started."

Despite the answer Bàin gave him, Táu is not convinced enough the men are there just to pass by. They are close, too close to the heart of Mirkwood.

"I'm not sure about that." Sidha muttered, brows furrowing together. Apparently Táu is not the only one who thought differently.

"Whatever it is, we have to tell Prince Legolas about it."

"King. Though he is not yet to be coronated, King Thranduil left for the Lands years ago."

Táu knew Bàin purposely changed the topic just so they won't drifted far to deep to their minds, for the war left many scars yet to be healed. Táu is quite thankful of having a comrade like him.

"I heard King Thranduil's fading, is he?"

"Nay. He's just.. injured."

"Badly."

"And Lord Elrond suggested he sailed. It was truly a surprise our Prince managed to persuade him after centuries of the King trying to protect him. Rather desperately I might add."

"Did he truly.. ordered everyone of you to broke one leg of each horses just so Prince Legolas can't leave the castle grounds?"

"Aye. I remembered that. The Prince was but five-hundred-years-old."

And here he is, living by his own since around four-hundred-years-old. Táu can't help but grimaced.

"They fought, didn't they?"

"For the whole three months!"

"Dina." Sidha suddenly hissed and both elves instantly quietened down.

The five of them perched on branches, silent as their keen senses picked up the trails left on the ground.

Grass needles scattered around messily. Mud sticking out at odd places, with deep footprints. Dried caked blood smeared over nearby tree trunks and stones. Twigs snapped into halves.

Táu leapt down, followed by Bàin and another elf that had been with them,-Faindir if he's not mistaken-.

"Men." Bàin seethed when Táu crouched down to inspect the warm tracks. Heavy, calculated footsteps. Just like the very same men he saw.

"Looks like you're wrong, Bàin." Sidha said, dangling above their heads.

"The men are looking for us."

And somehow, Táu felt that this is not going to end well.

"Men, you said?" Legolas asked, an eyebrow arched in bewilderment.

Bàin nodded.

"Aye, m'lord. Five of 'em. Three with horses. They are walking by foot m'lord, seems like they are looking for something."

"Are they a threat?"

"We don't know, m'lord."

"Had any of you seen them?"

"Nay. But Táu did."

Said elf blinked in surprise when all eyes fell on him.

Táulandir swallowed. His throat suddenly felt dry and sweats started to form on his forehead.

"I uhh.. One- One of them seemed to carry a- an.. emblem.. m'lord."

"An emblem, you said?"

"Aye, m'lord. An emblem on the scroll he carried under his.. cloak. If- If I'm not mistaken.. tis emblem is..," Táu hesitates for a moment, for his eyes sometimes can't be true. Yet the Prince nudged him further and so he complied,

"Tis the emblem of Minas Tirith, m'lord."

The room fell to a tense silence.

"Minas Tirith?" Legolas echoed, somewhat in disbelief.

"Aye. If I'm not mistaken, m'lord."

"What could they possibly want from us? King Aragorn and Queen Arwen clearly know us, what purpose do they want?" Bàin spoke up, in which Sidha quickly shoves his ribs. Hissing at him for it was inproper to speak such ways to a Royalty.

Legolas brushed it off, nodding at Sidha to tell him it was fine before turning back at Táu.

"Are you sure?"

"That I'm afraid I do not know, m'lord. My eyes can be quite.. deceiving.. at times.."

Legolas sighed and closes his eyes. Thinking about the Kingdom of Men, and his good old friend.

'What is it, Estel? What could you possibly want from us?' He thought, feeling the age getting to him.

'What is so important that, you gave your men our directions to our home?'

A knock then resounded from the door and the seven elves turned towards it. Legolas nodding at Faindir to get it.

"Pardon me, m'lord. But it seems we have.. guests."

Táulandir's throat felt dry. He sincerely hoped the Valar tis not the men.

"Yes, who are they?" Legolas asked, his tense voice didn't go unnoticed by Táu.

"Elves of Lothlórien, m'lord." The unexpected answer made them all sighed in relief. Táu didn't even realise he was holding his breath, his hands trembling behind his back.

"Send them in."

The elf nodded, returning back few moments later with the said elves. Two familiar faces with silver hair stood out from the small crowd.

"Mae govannen, Orophin of Lothlórien."

"Mae govannen, hir-nin." Orophin nodded, his fist on his chest in respect as Legolas returned the same gesture.

"Rumil."

"Hir-nin." Both elves greeted eachother again, fists on their chests.

"What aids you to Mirkwood?"

"Our kin had lessen more than we thought, m'lord. Tis become harder to defend ourselves against the orcs."

Táu blinked in surprise.

Creatures of darkness still dwell in Middle-earth, though little, for the darkness is no more.

Then, if so, the elves left of Lothlórien-..

"How many of you left?"

"Tis all left, m'lord."

There are only eight of them. Excluding Rumil and Orophin.

"Ten.." Táu breathed, eyes wide before realising his mistake and pulled his face down, facing his shoes instead. Dread knotted in his stomach.

"..Aye. All left for the Sea but us." Orophin continues, stirring all of their minds back and away from Táulandir.

Táu sighs in relief, sending bare whisper of 'thank you.', to which the Marchwarden nodded back.

"Then you are outmost welcomed here, my friends." Legolas then smiled warmly, his face void of any other emotions.

Yet they all knew what'd gone through his mind, for they all thought the very same.

Only very few of them left. Sooner or later, elves will be nothing on Middle-Earth but stories.

With that thought, Táu felt his stomach twisted further.

He didn't want that to happen.

"You all must've been very tired from your journey. Come. Let us eat together."

It took every willpower Táu had not to groan. He hates fancy dinners, more than anything. But he knew it has to be done, for the sake of diplomacy.

'Then perhaps, I shall just sneak-..'

A sharp look from Legolas made his blood run cold. The Prince's eyes are demanding, uttering words clear to him only; 'Do not even think about leaving' before it was gone as fast as it came.

'..or perhaps not.'

Tis a terrible habit Táu has, which is dissappearing everytime there are feasts. Because dear Valar, if he could avoid being dressed up in embroidred tunics and acting politely, then he would rather not go through those things.

Unfortunately, he's a rather close friend with Rumil of Lothlórien, who finds out about his habits and told it to Legolas, who in return, uses his full authority to force the younger elf to join them. Táu could've sworn they did it just to make fun of him.

How did he ended up with Rumil in the first place? Let's just say, he saved Rumil once from wargs ambush and met countless times during patrols. Their age gap is not that very far off, either.

It was, however, the fact that Rumil could be a tad bit.. nosy..

"Mae Govannen, Táu!"

A familliar voice pulled Táulandir away from his thoughts, blinking to meet a pair of striking pale blue eyes. The room is now less crowded, since many elves had left for the dining room.

"Mae Govannen, Rumil." Táu smiled, both elves went to hug eachother.

Although hugging is not really common amongst elves, Táu and Rumil find themselves liking it and often doing it. None of them ever minds it.

"Tis great to see you, mellonenin!"

"Aye. Great to see you too."

"You're so small! Do you even actually eat?" Rumil exclaimed after putting down the younger elf. His hand pointing to Táu's head to show his point.

"That is irrelevant." Táu said gruffly, pushing the latter's hand away, although his words didn't hold any venom.

Rumil laughed, melodious and lilting as Táu smiled. The sense of familiar presence made it better.

"Well now, I am not quite surprised of it, Rumil. Táulandir are often caught skipping his own meals."

"Legolas! I thought you are off with the rest of your kin."

"Do I look like I wanted to be amongst them? Do not get me wrong, but diplomacy is rather.. overwhelming. At given times." Said elven Prince chuckled, shrugging as he strides towards them. The small rays of sun seeping through glinting on the silver, delicate, circlet he wears.

"Now that you know, why can't any of you let me go off by myself?" Táu huffed, crossing his arms.

Both elves grinned.

"Why, to piss you off, of course. We do know how much you hate it."

"Valar! You two are worse than orcs!" Táu cried exhasperatedly, in which the two elves just laughed.

"Had I miss anything?"

"Orophin! Your brother and the Prince had gone mad! You must help me!"

The Marchwarden only took a long, deep,-and rather dramatic-, breath.

"Táu. We are doing this for your own good."

Said elf let out a small strangled,-and not very elven-, shriek. Much to their amusement.

"Táu, honestly what makes you hate feasts so much?" Rumil asked, mirth tinting in his voice.

Táulandir huffed.

"I have no good memories of feasts."

"Tis not that bad."

"Aye. Tis not. Tis worse."

\--TBC--

Eeeeyyyyy would you look at that. Lil' Táu hates feasts. Oh well, who doesn't? I certainly do.

Telerin :

-Ammë = Mother

Sindarin :

-Mellonenin = friend of mine

-Dina = Be silent

-Mae Govannen = Well met

-Hir-nin = My lord


	4. 3 : Feast

Táu absolutely hates this.

Not only Rumil insisted on choosing his tunic,-"You can't wear the militia tunic to a feast!" He said, shoving clothes into Táu's hands, "Wear this instead."-, but Táu also had to braid his hair into a proper fancy one.

Which is why, he is now sitting at the dinner table, wearinga wood-brown-silver-lined tunic, with small flowers woven onto his dark hair in delicate and complicated elven braids.

Again, Táu hates feasts. And it might seemed to be useless on having one now, seeing how empty the halls had become.

Yet, he knew. That although the feast passes off as act of proper diplomacy, they are still doing this just so they could forget how silent it becomes. How every elves now can sit on the long table, without worrying they won't have space. Infact, there are still chairs left.

Táu understands perfectly of it. And truly, it really scares him.

And at the same time, annoys him.

The elf frowned as he popped yet, another blueberry into his mouth. Muttering curses in his native language of how annoying his sleeves are, draping over his wrists like curtains, making it harder to move without knocking over plates.

"Manners, dear Táu." Bàin whispered from beside him with mirth, earning a kick on the shin.

"Hush!" Táu hissed as he discreetly wrestled to pluck some frostberries off their short branches.

"Honestly, Táu, I've seen you fought in battles against orcs, wargs.. and yet.." Bàin gestured at him, which earned himself yet another kick under the table.

"Now wonder ellith do not like you."

"I do not care for that!"

"But Táu.."

"But what?!"

Bàin leaned in with a grave expression.

"You are now an adult."

Táu froze. After few moments passed Bàin could see the tips of the younger elf's ears turning red.

"Son of a-"

Bàin let out a yelp.

"Stop kicking me!"

"Enough! Both of you stop acting like penneths!" Sidha seethed, coming between them with a sharp look.

"He started first!"

"Táu, saes."

"Gah!" Said elf huffed silently, glaring at the two elves.

Sidha sent him another look before returning to his previous conversation, with Faindir and another elf,-Haelas, if Táu did not mistaken-. Bàin continued on drinking wine from his goblet, not before sending another smile before Táu kicks him once again.

The feast continues. And Táu would keep chewing berries or anything he can get his hands on. If not, he would conversing with another elf. Keeping it polite and short.

"Let us have a toast!" Bàin suddenly exclaimed, standing up with his goblet in one hand.

All eyes laid on him. Out of the corner of his eyes, Táu could see Sidha slapping his own face, muttering words that suspiciously seemed to be 'orc lover'.

"Whatever for?"

"Eh.." Bàin shrugs.

"To.. Táu's future affair, I guess?"

The said latter spluttered. He started coughing badly that a lung would pop out. Rumil is patting his back beside him sympatheticaly.

"Never ever. In all of my life, I would ever get married. Thank you." Táu gritted, shooting daggers at Bàin, whom only smiled in return. Mirth twinkled in his eyes.

"Why are we even talking about my affair? Tis not yours to think of."

"Aye, but tis quite fun to talk about."

"Bàin-"

"He's still on the quite young side, Sidha. So I thought he'll need a proper education."

"Bàin-"

"Well, dear tithen tór, when an ellon and an elleth love eachother very much-"

Táu was close, very close, on stabbing Bàin with a fork right there and then.

"Bàin."

"Twas a jest, Sidha. I meant no harm."

"If so, why don't we talk about our recent activities then?" Orophin spoke up. Joining in as he popped a cheese into his mouth.

"I heard about something, from your delightful Prince-,"

Legolas scoffed on Orophin's clearly over-exaggerated accent.

"-that recently there had been an accident in the kitchen. Involving frying pans and few.. napkins." Instantly, Bàin's ears tinged a little red.

Táu bit his lips as he tries not to laugh. But it prooves to be futile as he accidently let out a small sound, to which he quickly covers with coughs.

It's too late though, for eyes all landed on him.

"Apologise, my lords. Tis the.. uhh..cheese." He heard Sidha did another slap.

"..Cheese?"

"It got stuck in my throat." Táu hurriedly say, coughing once again as if to proove his point.

Rumil wordlessly passes a goblet to him.

The smell of Dorwinion wine entered his senses and Táu had to use all his strength not to scrunch up his nose. He never was fond of drinks, yet all attention are onto him, leaving him little choice but to drink.

Holding his breath, Táu took a large gulp of the content in the goblet. And once the attentions are diverted, Táu wrenched in disgust.

The liquid warmed his body, leaving his cheeks and ears dusted red. Yet the taste lingering in his mouth made him scrunches up his nose, despite of Dorwinion wine supposedly being elves' favorite wine.

But if he needs to drink a goblet of Dorwinion wine just to watch Bàin being scolded like a penneth, he'll live through it.

"Egh."

Rumil wordlessly again, pushes a tray of frostberries towards him.

"What happened?" Orophin then continues, looking at Bàin with a questioning look.

"Twas.. nothing, m'lord."

"Did not sound such like it, master Bàin."

Yet he did not say anything but stood still, so Orophin turned towards Sidha.

"Care to tell what your comrade here has done?"

"Well.." Sidha looked around before biting his lips. Ignoring the pleading look Bàin sent him.

"Bàin he.. umm.. he fell. M'lord."

Táu choked back a laugh.

Meanwhile, Bàin had turn into an interesting shade of red.

Orophin raised an eyebrow in part amusement.

"He fell?"

"It was an accident!" Bàin sighed.

"He well.. oh for the love of- Bàin, my deepest apologise."

Said latter looked at Sidha in pure horror that Táu couldn't hold it longer, he broke out laughing.

Few elves also joined in with chuckles, for they had not been there yet heard the story, and they also did not want to embarrass their comrade further.

Unlike Táu. Who had been there along with Sidha. And truthfully, it was very much funnier.

"Twas early in the morn, m'lord. Bàin woke us up, Táu and I,-we shared the same quarters-. He said he wanted to get some food and needed our help. Táu told him to go by himself, yet he insisted that he needed help to get pass the halls' patrols."

"Whyever for?"

"As I quote, 'If we walked right up to them, it'll ruin the fun.'

"We sneaked to the kitchen then. Twas dark but the dim moonlight from the window, m'lord. Bàin walked towards the cabinet and uh.."

"He slipped." Táu, eyes still glowing with mirth, continued, laughing uncontrollably as his shoulders shook.

Bàin looked furious.

"I see nothing quite funny of that.." Orophin said with a raised eyebrow, looking at Sidha for an explanation.

"Twas not the 'slipped' part that was funny, m'lord. It was the fact that..

"It was barely dusk and thus, we were still half asleep. The kitchen was dark when we entered, and suddenly Bàin lost his footing and fell. He caused quite a scene by shouting few.. words best not to say, while dragging things from the counter along with him as he fell."

"The frying pan flew and hit his head." Táu said in his outmost uncaring voice, before bursting out laughing once again.

He could see Sidha trying his own best not to laugh. Shown by the tugs on his lips as he tried to keep a straight face.

"He screamed. And then, when we finally lit the candles, we founded out that he slipped by a napkin."

"That and when we dragged him back to the quarters, Bàin insisted on walking on his own."

"Before slamming to the nearest wall face first."

"Very un-elf-like." Sidha nodded gravely and the rest of them broke out laughing.

"You jested!"

"Was not!" Táu shot back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched his friend, Rumil, laughing like fools they are.

"La la la, ego besto yrch!" Bàin snapped, slumping back to his seat as he fumed. Yet Táu knew better than to trust anything the older elf had shown. He knew deep down, Bàin enjoyed every bits of moment, for it was what makes them all smiling, forgetting the fact there are little of them, just for a while.

For a very short while.

"Hir-nin!" An elf entered, Táu recognizes it is Tathar, the leader of the patrol group this night.

Immediately, the whole room quitened down. Every mirths they once had were now casted aside, for all of them are warriors, and they certainly recognized danger when they see it.

"What aids you, mellonenin?" Legolas asked as Tathar kneeled down, bowing in respect.

His next words however, shocked him, and everyone in the very room,

"My Prince, the Men sent from Minas Tirith are here."

\--TBC--

It was not supposed to be-ughhh!! *smacks brain*

Translations;

Sindarin :

-Penneth = child

-Saes = please

-La la la = ha ha ha (kind of sarcastic)

-Ego besto yrch = go marry an orc (insult)

-Mellonenin = friend of mine

-Hir-nin = my Lord

-Ellon = elf (male)

-Elleth = elf (female)

-Ellith = elf (female-plural)

-Tithen tór = little brother (teasing)

Also, I have absolutely no idea how I'm getting the idea of the whole.. slipped-and-fall-then-walked-onto-a-wall incident. Okay, that may happened to a friend of mine. Once. Twice.

This is kind of terrible.. isn't it? Urggghhh.. *mutters* glob búbhost..


	5. 4 : Men of Gondor

They are worn, tired, beaten, and..

Wary.

Those are the things Táu listed off as he watched the men from beside Rumil, both currently stationed on the far left of Legolas and Orophin, as the two older elves stood by the throne.

During the feast, after Tathar reported that the men arrived, Legolas quickly dismissed himself along with Orophin. Not too long Rumil joined in, and Táu, seeing the first chance to escape the dreaded feast, also excused himself with the help of Rumil. Rumil saying that he needed Táu along as a negotiator or something along those lines, Táu isn't so sure,-for he had never heard that sindarin word-.

So here he was, still clad in his fancy tunic, but atleast free from the feast. Standing infront of five worn men, whom looked to be warriors more than messengers.

Although Táu didn't mind, his nose caught the scent of old blood. And the men looked quite strained. Their shoulders tensed, as if preparing to pummel at the shadows at any given moment.

"You are safe now, my friend. You do not need to wary." Legolas said, also noticing the tension between the men and is trying to ease it.

Despite they looked more at ease, the tension still won't leave from their shoulders.

Táu's ears caught few mutters then, before the man who said those were shoved by his comrade. And despite he did not master the Westron tongue, Táu could understand partly that he was muttering curses. And not a very nice one at that, which made him wonder.

"We thank you for the hospitality, my King." The tallest man in the group,-possibly the leader-, then said, kneeling down. Although the tension still was in his shoulders.

"There is no need to. May we cut the chase? Perhaps as in why the King of Gondor sent you here?" That was Orophin, of course. Legolas would avoid any confrontations nor negotiations at any given moment, and Orophin is his only scapegoat.

"Of course, my King,"

Beside him, Táu heard Rumil snorted quietly.

"I am Barnabus. King Elessar sent a message for you, he said it was urgent, and that I shall never gave it to anyone but you."

The rest of the words came out as a blur. Táu nudged Rumil for a translation, but alas the latter could only shrugs. For his knowledge of the language is also limited.

Orophin used to be like him, but when Marchwarden Haldir,-Táu winced slightly at the memory-, brother of Rumil and Orophin, died in battle, Orophin had taken a gruelling lesson on studying Westron as part of his newly assigned duty. But sadly, Rumil had not. Yet.

The conversations went back and forth before Legolas called them to retire to their chambers, offering the men food, which surprisingly they all quickly turned down.

Now, that is something Táulandir founded really strange.

"They are too wary." Táu said when they retreated for the baths, being the only ones there since all had retreated to their own chambers, and some went off to patrol.

Táulandir huffed as he pried to open the tightly clasped high-collar off, nearly toring off his tunic in process.

"Aye, tell me about it." Rumil muttered, stripping his own tunic.

"I do not think they are that bad." Orophin piped in, in which the two younger elves stared at him with incredulity.

"They turned down the food we offered."

"And refused to get checked in the infirmary."

"They almost offered to sleep outside instead of the chambers."

"They refused baths."

"And they looked like they are ready to lunge at their own shadows!" Táu yelled exhasperatedly, tossing his tunic away as he submerged himself into the bath.

A soft sigh escaped his lips when the warm water touches his skin. His strained muscles are slowly relaxing from a long day work, allowing himself to think clearer and calmer.

"I think what you don't understand Rumil, is that men dislike baths very much." Legolas said, dipping not too far beside Táulandir.

"Estel hates baths."

"The red haired one is injured. Why did he refuse to be checked upon?" Rumil said.

"Perhaps he is.. ashamed?"

"That is only reserved for you, my King." Orophin eyed Legolas as he called mockingly, earning himself a splash of water in the face.

"Trust the archerer to aim everything right."

Táu heard Rumil muttered quietly as the two older elves exchanged banters.

"You are the King now, Legolas. Face your own negotiations yourself!"

"And let myself die out of boredom? Len hannon, but no thank you."

"Atleast you will die valiantly facing the dreaded council. My King."

"Amin dellotha le."

"Admit it, you enjoy every bits moment of it."

x

Táu really wanted to hit someone in the face. Anyone. Really.

"Is there a reason why you looked like Gollum who lost the One Ring?" Rumil asked as he sat beside him on the tree bark.

Táu huffed in annoyance.

"I do not understand men at all."

Rumil hummed as he reached out for Táu hair. Releasing it from its braids before combing the dark locks with his fingers, untangling few knots.

"Do tell."

"For Eru's sake, that man with the crooked nose,-I think his name is Perry or something-, kissed Meryl! Kissed Meryl! She is married! That dimwitted thrice-damned-"

"Táu. Enough. I get that what he had done is unacceptable, but he's a man. We do not know anything of their customs. Perhaps that's how they greeted women."

Táulandir growled and crossed his arms.

"I am not aware that kissing using tongues are customs of men."

"Using- what?!"

"Tongues. That's disgusting, why would men do that?" Táu asked, looking at Rumil who had turned into an interesting shade of.. blue? Green?

"Rumil?"

"Umm.. Táu, you are not supposed to know that."

"Know what?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." Rumil let out a hesitant laugh as he made a note to tell Orophin and Legolas. Táulandir is simply too young to understand of it.

Which leaves the younger elf more confused than ever, and also suspicious.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Rumil?"

"Yes. And you are too young for it."

"I am one-thousand-and-fifteen-years-old!"

"Still a child."

"I have my first battle!"

"Still young."

"Rumil, you are only three-hundred-and-twenty-years older than me!"

"Best you wait then."

"Rumil!"

"Am I interrupting something?"

Both elves looked down to see Orophin, clad in his Marchwarden tunic, standing beside the tree they resided. He looked a bit disheveled, with his braids loosened and some strands sticking out.

"No you didn't, gwadorenin. Is there something you needed?" Rumil answered, glad to avoid Táu's further interrogation.

"Yes. You both are needed in the Great Library."

Táu blinked.

The Great Library. Elves rarely visited it, with the exception of Táu himself. And yet, whatever for?

"Whyever for?" Rumil asked.

Orophin looked around and dropped in his voice into a bare whisper, one that only Táu and Rumil could hear.

"You need to see the letter from Minas Tirith."

x

Táu's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he read through the letter. And again. And again. And again.

'To Legolas, King of Greenwood,

My friend.

I'm afraid I have little to say. For the matter is too dire for me to write a foreword.

Something. Or someone. Are doppelganging the elves, and are killing men all over Middle-Earth.

And now men are blaming the elves for it.

I know better than to think that you nor your kin would do such things. Yet my men would not listen. No matter what explanations Arwen and I have told them.

Instead, there are rumours that Arwen bewitched me to be of her slaves. Bewitched! Of all things.

The matter tis that bad, unfortunately, my friend. No matter how many reasonings I gave them. They just lost all trusts. After all things.

For this matter, I have no choice but to hold a council. I even got the dwarves and hobbits to come over and help. For the matter is just bad. Worse.

I can't do much for this but to ask for your presence in the council. May Valar help us clear this.

Also, do forgive my messengers' behaviours. I did my best to convince them not to kill you. Tell me if they dared to do something out of the line, I will disposed them.

Yours,

Aragorn son of Arathorn, King Elessar'

"Am I reading this correctly? 'I did my best to convince them not to kill you'?" Rumil asked in bewilderment, looking at Orophin who shrugs.

"Aye. I'm reading it too." Táulandir said, transfixed.

"So whatever these.. things are. They are killing men and using elves as scapegoats?"

"Apprently so." Legolas muttered, looking out of the large window.

"'Tell me if they dared to do something out of the line, I will disposed them.' Heh, let's tell him that one of his men kissed Meryl." Táu said.

"What?!" Both Orophin and Legolas whirled in shock.

"With tongues." Táu added.

Rumil cuffed the back of his head.

"Not now."

"So to make this easier, Legolas has to leave for Minas Tirith for council. Aye?" Orophin said, pressing on Legolas' name to make his point clear, as the said elf rolled his eyes.

"You need not to press on that matter Orophin, I've known better than to ignore Estel's invitation."

"What will happens if you do?" Táulandir asked, partly intrigued.

Legolas sighed and shook his head.

"He would come and kidnap me for sure. Bind me and throw me into a sack at the most."

"Well.. that's something most likely to happen." Táu muttered, imagining Legolas being carried around by his apparent human friend.

Yes. Tis most definitely to happen at some point.

"One thing for sure, I do not like the presence of those messengers if they were to accompany you." Orophin said, crossing his arms.

Táulandir also felt himself being irritated. Not only the men are suspicious of his kin, they also thought it would be better to make fun of the elves. Yes, Táu still does not understand the meaning of kissing with tongues, but from Rumil, Orophin, and Legolas' reactions, tis something bad. And so, he does not like it one bit.

"Of course not, Orophin. Do you think I have lost my mind?" Legolas waved, shrugging, almost carelessly.

"Then who, pray do tell, are you going with? And do not say alone, because getting you die of orc ambush isn't something I wanted to deal with."

"I'm not that careless!" Legolas snapped, which made three heads raised their eyebrows at him.

"Really?" Rumil asked, almost deadpan.

"You nearly killed yourself trying to twirl knives for the first time." Orophin said.

"Both Haldir and you nearly died for getting stuck way under the caves, twice." Rumil said.

"You jumped off a cliff." Orophin said.

"You are badly injured after you dismembered a warg." Rumil said.

"He jumped off a cliff?" Táu asked in surprise, looking at Legolas with barely concealed mix of shock and admiration.

"Long story."

"Don't you dare even thinking to try it Táulandir." Rumil seethed.

"No promises, for it seemed quite tempting."

"Táulandir!"

"Ma ma, I won't."

The Elven Prince glared at them. If looks could kill, they would've all obliterated into ashes.

"Alright then. Now that we've settle the fact our King-," another glare. "Jumped of a cliff. Once,-Do not look at me like that Legolas-, We need to discuss who would be his escort." Orophin said, clasping his hands together.

"And I would've volunteer, if not for the fact that I would be the unofficial Lord in here that'll take care the orders."

"Well, do count me out. I lacked diplomatic skills and westron. The last thing you'd want is me trying to kill all the people in the council." Rumil said, shaking his head and all eyes landed on Táulandir.

"Oh no. Count me out. My skills are way off from Rumil's."

"Táu, please."

"Have you seen me talking to another elf? I'm quite sure I've spooked six out of ten elves I've met, and very much positive they would not want to meet me again for the next millenials."

"It can't be that bad."

"Tis worse. Get Tathar. Or Faindir. Or anyone, really. Anyone but me."

"We can't risk it! And you know what'll Tathar do when he heard I would leave to a place full of people whom hate our kin. He'll be livid." Legolas said, crossing his arms.

"Sidha? Haelas?"

"Whom would take care of the rest? Sidha is one of the remaining captains we have. Haelas is the only healer we have left. If anything, it should be you Táu."

Táulandir narrowed his eyes at Orophin's words.

"I feel that I should be offended of your words."

"Enough. So is it settled? Legolas would leave with Táu, taking the mountains road,-for it is shorter albeit more dangerous road-, for Minas Tirith?" Rumil asked, looking directly at two said elves as Táu sighed.

"If we don't make it, I would haunt you to the afterlife and say 'I told you so'." The youngest elf said, glaring at the three older elves.

"Táu." Rumil pressed.

Táulandir groaned and shook his head. Nodding then, almost reluctantly.

"Aye. When are we going?"

Legolas shared him a look, one that usually means something bad.

"Tonight."

And Táu felt certain it's going to be the death of him.

\--TBC--

Well then. I'm pretty sure the.. kissing part is unexpected. But really. Táu is a child. He's innocent and needs to be protected.

Although I do gave you all my deepest apologies if I ever offended any of you with the.. ya know..

Translations ;

Sindarin :

-Len hannon = thank you

-Amin dellotha le = I hate you

-Gwadorenin = brother of mine

-Ma ma = yes yes; fine; alright


	6. 5 : Restless Travels

"Everything settled?"

Táulandir nodded as he fastened his cloak over his shoulders. Settling ontop of his beautiful gray mare.

Twas night. Obviously. The sky was dark yet full of glimmering stars as Táulandir and Legolas packed for their upcoming trip.

"The sky is clear. Your journey should be swift." Rumil said as he passed a leaf wrapped lembas to Táu, whom quickly shoved it into his small satchel.

"You sure you need not any more preparations?" Orophin asked.

Legolas shook his head.

"No. The matter is urgent. We shall need to ride light and swift, and only stop when needed."

"As long as we do not ecounter wargs nor orcs, the road would take atleast two weeks if we do not stop." Táu said, muttering soft words to ease his horse.

Legolas swung himself up onto his own white stallion. His head nodding.

"Aye. That's what I'm planning to do so."

"You both are mad." Rumil cried out in exhasperation.

"An elf could only go so far with neither rest nor rations."

"You are wrong Rumil. There are two elves." Táu grinned, laughing quietly at Rumil's irritated face.

He is going to leave his friends. And he may not return. Why not make the most of it?

"Pen-channas." Rumil uttered, to which Táu laughed off.

"You know clearly what of I meant." Rumil continued.

"Aye. Not to worry, for I would make sure we have,-at the least-, decent rest." Táulandir said.

"Let us leave." Legolas spoke up.

The four of them shared a look.

"Namarië Rumil, Orophin."

"Namarië."

"May the road of green and gold be open to you, mellonenin." Rumil called out as Táulandir and Legolas setted off to ride.

Táulandir turned his mare around, with his fist on his chest, he smiled and called back,

"Len hannon, Rumil."

The two brothers of Lothlórien then watched as the two Mirkwood elves disappeared in the horizon.

And thus, the journey of Táulandir, begins.

x

"Ai Legolas, let us stop to have some rest. Our horses could barely stand any longer." Táulandir said as he patted Lassë's silvery coat. His horse had been panting like a dog for the past hours, unable to keep up with the exhaustion longer.

Even with elven horses, they still couldn't keep up to the blond elf's expectations of arrival.

"It only has been a month ride. Minas Tirith is still a long way to go." Legolas said sharply.

The words would've hurt Táulandir, had he not known his friend better. He knew Legolas was simply worried, and he can't blame him for it. For he would be too, the message, the messengers' actions, all were too frustating.

For the past month they lived on lembas, wild berries, and water collected on leaves. They almost never stopped, only when the horses desperately needed it, and it was only for half an hour. They only slept two times, and even then they took turns; one led the horses to keep on travelling as the other one slept on the horse's back.

"Legolas, saes. Our horses need to rest, and so do us." Táu said, trying to reason the stubborn prince.

Legolas huffed and frowned, his eyes casted over the horizon, a wary look on his face.

"A few hours rest and that's it."

"It's good enough." Táulandir shrugged.

"Shall we stop at the village?"

"What?" Legolas turned to him in bewilderment.

Táulandir pointed at the light smoke rising up, the gray puffs of air standing out against the twilight, strikes of purple and oranges painted on the sky.

"We should. I think our rations had decrease. Also, it's best to leave our horses. Otherwise, men would try to steal them."

Táu looked at the other elf strangely.

Legolas shrugged,

"Some men are desperate enough to try and steal elven horses."

"Don't they realize our horses could kill them in a single strike? Especially yours," Táu stared at Legolas' white mare.

"Didn't you say Elen dislikes everyone but you?"

"Trust me. I have to pull her down every, single, time I spent my times with Estel and the Rangers. Most thieves ended with a broken rib or two, if they were lucky." As he said those words, Legolas whispered softly at his horse. Telling her to stay back and to not go anywhere lest she was called.

Beside him, Táuladir followed in suit. Lightly kissing his stallion's forehead before sending him off to hide in the forest. Legolas' mare followed behind.

The two elves then travelled down the hill. Their feet light against the rather slippery slope as they walked. Both Táu and Legolas had their cloaks and weapons attached.

Just before they could exit the trees however, Legolas pulled Táulandir back. Nearly tripping over the younger elf.

"What is it?"

"Turn up your cloak and conceal your face." Legolas hissed.

Táulandir did what he was told as he watched Legolas crouching down beside a small creek.

"Man cerig?"

The blond elf answered by suddenly smacking Táu's cheek with mud.

"Ai! Am man theled?"

"We are too clean. Men are dirtier when they travel." Legolas said as he rubbed the mud on his own face. He then pulled back his hay coloured hair into a tail with a piece of root.

Táu wiped some of the dirt off from his face. He groaned,

"Boe?"

"Aye." Legolas then turned up his own cloak.

"Let us go."

"Just two dinners for my companion and I, we need not any lodgings." Legolas said to the innkeeper, a tall and big burly man with an intriguing curly moustache.

The innkeeper gruffed in response as he called for one of the serving women.

"Get these two men their dinners and show them the table."

He then eyed Legolas with something that almost resembles a glare.

"Twelve coopers, young man."

Legolas dropped the exact amount of coins into the Innkeeper's big palm before following the serving lady. Táulandir trotted behind him, tripping over few wooden planks that poked out from the floor.

Táu managed to knock over a candle,-which he quickly and luckily able to caught, otherwise it would've been disastrous-, when the lady showed the two,-previously-, elves a table by a window. She then excused herself, leaving them on their own account.

"Why do you keep falling over?!" Legolas gritted behind his teeth as soon as Táulandir finally sat down on the wooden chair.

"I can't see those damned planks with my cloak covering my eyes! And this place is too crowded, it's hard to keep tracks of everything!" Táu hissed quietly, to which men would not hear, but the two of them would surely do, just as he nearly toppled over the chair.

"Here I am wondering whether you truly are an elf or not." Legolas mumbled.

"Shut up!" Táulandir growled when the serving lady returned.

She placed two plates of bread loaves and cheese with two tankard of ale on the table, she then left so quickly to serve other customers that Táulandir didn't even got the chance to thank her.

"Take the ale. I don't want it." Táu said as he nibbled on the cheese. Savoring the taste of another food other than lembas and wild berries.

Legolas didn't utter a word as he downed his own tankard. The prince of Mirkwood then broke his loaf into halves, he gave Táu the half of it whilst wrapping up Táulandir's own loaf with a clean piece of cloth.

Legolas bit on his bread as Táu took the wrapped up bread, putting it into his satchel as future rations for their travel.

Albeit the bread tasted dry, and the cheese somehow sour, the two travelling elves enjoyed the bits of their dinner. Savoring it as if they were just back at Mirkwood, eating in another silly feast for whatever purpose.

The tavern was lively. Men kept pouring in with no clear end, and as the night goes on, it seemed more and endless.

Many are talking with eachother, although some also preffered solitude as Legolas and Táu. Táulandir was quiet surprised to see some men with their clothes bloody, tattered, and caked with dried mud. When the elf heard through their conversations, they had only been travelling for a week.

Just what kind of trouble these men get themselves into?

Some then started smoking. Táulandir's nose scrunched up in disgust when the smell of tobacco filled up the tavern. He glared at Legolas' smiling face,-whom clearly are accustomed to such habits of smoking pipes from his quest of The Fellowship-.

"Stop that."

"I did not say anything."

Táu cuffed the back of his head.

"How disrespectful of you to your elders."

"Says the two-thousand-and-three-hundred-sixty-two years old elven prince who still and will steal Lord Elrond's jar of honeycomb cookies." Táulandir said, nearly tripping on his own words as he racked through his lack of sindarin phrases.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to make any mistake.

"You have to admit, those cookies are good."

"True."

The two of them then continued to eat in silence.

After Legolas drank Táulandir's share of ale,-not that he minded it-, the older elf spoke,

"Do you feel better now? Shall we continue our road? Or, do you need more rest?"

Part of Táu was oddly touched by Legolas rare show of kindness.

The brown haired elf mulled over. He was still quite sore, since he was not exactly used to such long travels, yet. But he knew Legolas was in need of dire hurry, so he shook aside his selfishness. Pain would have to wait.

"No. I am well for now, let us go forth."

Just as the elves about to rise from their seats to leave, a wind blew out loudly.

The wind was so loud that it instantly quietened down the whole tavern. The candles blew out, doors and windows broke open as the whole place was swallowed in darkness. Cold eerie air was suddenly placed upon them, the wind whistling in their ears.

Th men tensed. Some are reaching out for their swords.

"Táu.." Legolas whispered as he took out his bow. And arrow ready in one hand.

"Aye." Táu said, taking out his own bow when he felt his stomach dropped. Dread filled inside him.

"I felt it too."

Then, hollow shrieks echoed in the dark night.

\--TBC--

gaspgaspgasp*

Next we are going to see our sons kicking some butts sooooooo...

Action scenes! Whoop whoop!

And honeycomb cookies. Ahaha. I really love them. So sweet and crunchy mhhhmmm... makes my mouth water just from thinking it. Like, it melts in your mouth into caramel-like- okay what am I doing.

Translations ;

Sindarin :

-Pen-channas = Idiot

-Namarië = farewell

-Mellonenin = Friend of mine

-Len hannon = Thank you

-Saes = Please

-Man Cerig? = What are you doing?

-Am man theled? = Why? (For what purpose?)

-Boe? = Is it necessary?


	7. 6 : Creatures of The Night

High pitched shrieks pierced through the cold air as all of them tensed. Weapons ready with eyes constantly moving about. Not a voice uttered.

Other than the constant shrieks, there are absolutely no other sound in the night. Nothing. Not even crickets or frogs, no matter how hard Legolas and Táulandir strained their sharp ears to listen.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Instead, Táu could hear his own heartbeat. Thumping loudly against his ribcage, and his own breathes, the thin puffs of air coming out from his nose.

The two elves shared a look. None of them knew what was happening.

It was when a man cried out from the streets. All bloodied and- by the love of Valar-..

Táu felt his blood frozen when he saw the man's injuries.

Not even the Battlefield could prepare him for this.

" _Elves_! _Elves_ at the Square!" The man yelled in his croaked voice.

Both of the _elves_ stared at eachother with each a shocked look. Legolas mouthing 'the letter' as Táulandir nodded. The grip on his bow tightened.

"Help us! Please help us!"

Yet none of them moved.

None dared to.

"Please! Please help us! My wife-" Before he could finish his sentence, a dark figure striked upon him.

His screams joined in with an inhumane shriek as the figure sized upon him. They struggled and wrestled on the ground, blood spilling everywhere.

Táu couldn't breathe.

He had been in a battlefield. Fought in a battle. Seen many died and so much blood. Yet nothing was ever compared to.. this.

He was seeing a man,

getting eaten alive.

"Legolas, I can't-"

The older elf's head snapped towards Tâulandir. His face turned into a worried one when he saw his younger friend's eyes wide, his breathes coming up in short puffs.

He pulled the brown haired elf to his back. Concealing him from the view.

"Close your eyes."

Táu obeyed. Flinching whenever he heard flesh being torn off accompanied with screams.

"We need to get out from here." Legolas seethed, more to himself as Táu nodded. Wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

"Legola-"

A shriek interrupted him and Táulandir's eyes snapped open.

That one came to close. Way too close. As if it came from-

"Move!" Táulandir and Legolas yelled in unison as they pushed the men away from the center of the tavern, just as the ceiling gave in and lo behold, fell down six of the same figure from the one on the road,-whom currently busy eating it's prey-.

Metals unseathed and ringing filled the air as the dark figures slowly rose up. Their body convulsing in a strange manner.

Táu could make out the figures almost easily with his eyes, even in the dark. Yet, his mouth opened in shock as he stared at the creatures, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

They looked really

elven.

Slender body, fair face with long silky hair, leaf-shaped ears.. The differences are, that they are in the coloured as dark as raven's wings from head to toe. And their eyes glowed, with fangs dripping with blood and saliva. Large grins stretched on their lips so wide, Táulandir thought those would've torn their faces into halves.

They looked like elves, at the same time, they are not.

"What are they?" Táu whispered to Legolas, in hopes for an answer.

"I don't know.."

They didn't got the chance to talk for long however, when the creatures lunged upon them all.

Before Táu could react, battlecries, yells, and shrieks already filled the tavern. Men yelling and cursing words that,-thankfully-, Táulandir did not understand.

He can only imagine how terrible they were from Legolas' frowning face.

"We must go. Now." The elven prince said as he fired an arrow towards one of the creatures.

The arrow struck on the being's neck. Yet it didn't stop. The creature only seemed to become angrier, as if the shot did not affect it at all.

"I second that." Táulandir said as he dodged a thrown dagger.

The tavern had become a whirling mess of tangled limbs, weapons, and blood. Loud voices ringing inside the two elves' sensitive ears as they fought anyone who attacked them, even men.

Táu could barely dodge a wild eyed man lunging after him, the man's hands clawing at Táulandir's neck, screaming in wild terror.

He tackled the brown haired elf down with such ferocity, that it made Táu dropped his bow, toppling over a table while crashing onto a group of also fighting men.

Táulandir whipped out his knives seconds before the man drove his own dagger into Táu's chest, the elf gritted his teeth as he struggled to keep the dagger from reaching his heart.

"Stop! I am a man!" Táu said in broken westron, the lisp came out of his voice unintentionally.

The man only growled and kept driving the knife.

"Stop! Man, stop!" Táu stuttered again. Panicking when his awkwardly bent arms could no longer seemed to held back the persistent man's dagger.

The men around them did not even seemed to notice them both, still busy fending of the creatures, as they took down nearly half of the men in the tavern. And Táulandir could not spot his blond haired companion in the midst of chaos.

The man then let out a strangled cry. And with that he tore off Táu's knives away, the brown haired elf swore his heart stopped when the man lunged at him once again.

"Rhaich!" Táu yelped, barely dodging the man's blow as he glared at the elf with lost-shocked-and-mad eyes. Táu can only thought that the man had lost his mind.

It was unfortunate that, the man left a quite deep cut on his neck.

During the assault, when the man's hands weakened for a short time, Táu managed to roll over, which gave him the opening to throw the man away. He scrambled back to his feet to avoid a stray sword, a hand clasping his bleeding wound.

Táulandir's eyes ran wild as he assessed the room, trying to find his missing friend. Only to found himself enganged with one of the dark creatures.

The being snapped and growled. It's glowing scarlet eyes greedily eying the blood trinkling under Táu's chin, whom struggled against the advancing creature.

The elf thought he would've died along with the creature when a man drove his sword into the being's back. Táu was surprised at the fact he was still alive, the dark creature's body hitting the wooden floor with a thump as the man seathed his bloodstained sword.

"Thank.. you." Táu said, struggling not to let his lisp showing as he speaks.

The man wiped off the blood from his stubbled chin as he let out a grunt. Along with words that Táu could not make out nor understand.

It didn't matter much anyways, as Táu suddenly lunged at the man and shoved him under a table. The two of them barely dodged another wild-eyed man, with bloody sword in one hand.

The man beside Táu spat out words that were probably curses, he had a determined and furious look on his face as he watched the fight. The brown haired elf himself struggled to stop his bleeding wound as he looked for Legolas.

A low voice spoke beside him and Táu's head snapped towards the man, his mouth moving as he uttered words that Táu could not understand.

The man then stopped. Looking at Táu as if he expected something. Some words Táu was supposed to say.

Táulandir racked through his head. Struggling to find the right words that would not blow off his cover, nor giving any offensive signs to the man. Because getting attacked is the least thing the brown haired elf wanted when he was injured.

"I.. Uhhh..-"

Valar save him.

"I-.. something-.." Beneath his hood, Táu squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lips. Praying to the Valar that the man might not get suspicious of him.

Too late.

The man looked at Táu strangely. His eyes narrowed with doubts seen in his eyes.

He opened his mouth to spoke again.

And stopped.

By pure luck, the table they are hiding under in broke. Táu could not decide whether his relief was appropriate or not when he was sepparated from the man as he rolled away. He shielded himself from the sharp wooden splinters, then diving away from a thrown-flying man.

The elf purposely went back into the crowd of chaos, weaving in and out of arrows, swords, axes, and thrown man. Trying to loose himself in the battle, while also looking for his friend.

Táulandir felt another huge immense of relief when a familiar blond finally appeared behind him. His cloak was gone, leaving his hay coloured hair to be seen clearly if not for the shadows he was hiding in.

Overall, the Prince of Mirkwood looked generally dishelved, exhausted, with a subtle shocked look in his eyes. He was gripping his mellorn wood bow tightly.

"Menathab." Legolas said, passing Táu his own bow before leaving the tavern.

And Táu could not be happier to comply.

\--TBC--

As I promised. Action scenes *dances*

If it's not clear or hard to understand, the man who attacked Táu is insane. Practically.

Like come one guys, who won't went insane and started attacking everything when they are under a lot of pressure? I sure will when I snapped, and I won't care whether you are a man, an elf, an alien, or unicorn or whatever.

And look! We got a picture on what we are facing on *rubs hands* ooohhhhhhh... *evil smirk*

And Táu is an innocent mung bean save him.

He can't speak westron to save his own life, literally, save him.

#SaveTáulandir2k17

Translations ;

Sindarin :

-Rhaich = Curses

-Menathab = Let's go


End file.
